


Agreement

by stewardess



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Friendship, Humor, Multi, Polyamory, Romance, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-17
Updated: 2009-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stewardess/pseuds/stewardess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk is not entirely a self-serving bastard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [mrkinch](http://mrkinch.dreamwidth.org/) and [doeeyedgrim](http://doeeyedgrim.insanejournal.com/) for the look-over!

From the deck of an Alcatraz ferry, Kirk watched the glittering towers of the city recede, and was grateful Nero's drill had missed everything solid on its way down; the wreckage had passed alarmingly close to the casinos, bars, and sex clubs covering the rocky island in San Francisco Bay.

It would have been a tragedy if Alcatraz had been hit, because Kirk hadn't been laid for nearly three months.

After destroying Nero and saving the world—not bad for a first mission—the Enterprise and her crew had embarked on a two-month shakedown voyage with six hundred aboard; they would be cut to four hundred and forty.

The short voyage had ended two days ago, and the Enterprise was back in Iowa with Scotty, its new chief engineer, every bolt getting scrutiny. The crew was in San Francisco, about to be scrutinized just as thoroughly. Their next voyage would last five years. No place for the dysfunctional, mechanical or sentient.

Spock and McCoy would assess the fitness of the crew. Kirk could overrule their recommendations (and Starfleet Command could overrule _him_), but he didn't expect he would have to. He trusted the combination of McCoy's gut feelings and Spock's logic.

Kirk hadn't risked a fling during the trial voyage, not even with Federation space station personnel; the Enterprise had been briefly moored twice. It was Kirk's longest stretch without sex since age fifteen. With an end to abstinence finally in sight, he wasn't sure he would survive the brief ferry voyage.

But it seemed he would: he was in the ferry's crowded main lounge, trying to get a drink at the bar, when he felt the first hand on his body.

The hand belonged to an extremely attractive man in his mid-thirties, but Kirk had resolved not to go for the first thing on offer. He was too damn desperate to be in a hurry. Ignoring how hot the man was, Kirk prepared to make excuses. Before he could, however, the man waved energetically at a beautiful woman in the crowd.

When she joined them with gratifying speed, the man introduced her as his girlfriend, following up with a smile and the words, "Can we buy you a drink?"

With two arms around his waist, Kirk jettisoned all thoughts of a brush off. In the state he was in, _hell yes_ it was going to take two.

* * *

The final week before departure was frantic. Scotty returned from Iowa with an engineering report requiring Kirk's immediate attention. McCoy was convinced the entire crew would go nuts from being cooped up on a spaceship for five years; Kirk had to talk him out of it. Spock produced fitness report after fitness report, all faultlessly prepared and unassailable in their conclusions.

The day before their departure, however, was something of a respite, set aside for a celebration at Starfleet Command. Regardless of flight status, anyone who had ever set foot on the Enterprise in a professional capacity was invited, nearly two thousand.

There were a few speeches about the marvels of the Enterprise, then the crowd descended on the buffets, bars, and dance floor, ranks mixing freely. Kirk made the mistake of filling a plate and sitting down early on. Once seated, he didn't want to move again; he'd managed only four hours of sleep a night for the last three weeks.

After cleaning his plate (it being San Francisco and not Iowa, the Starfleet food was better than merely edible), he studied the crowd: finding his crew, and ticking them off with satisfaction in his mind.

Scotty was already aboard the Enterprise, docked in orbit. McCoy was drinking steadily, and staying miles away from the dance floor. Sulu and Chekov, over at the next table, weren't drinking —_Driving in the morning, sir_, Sulu had said.

Kirk had abstained after one toast to the Enterprise, but only because he was undecided whether to stay completely sober, or to get completely smashed. Anything between seemed pointless.

He hadn't seen Spock and Uhura for the last hour. If they had slipped out to be on their own… Kirk tried to work up outrage, and failed. A few minutes later, he saw Spock approaching his table.

"Captain." Spock added a nod to his greeting, then sat on Kirk's left.

When Kirk saw Uhura seating herself at another table, he knew his two officers had been making the rounds, doing what he should have been doing: shaking hands, putting people at ease… Well, at least Uhura had been doing that. Spock circulated in crowds with his hands clasped behind his back.

Not for the first time, a wave of envy passed over him for Spock and Uhura's relationship. A five-year mission together; they couldn't have hoped for anything better. Their next mission could have separated them for years.

Returning Spock's greeting, Kirk smirked a little at his private knowledge. Not only had Kirk learned from Spock One how much emotion a Vulcan secretly contained, Kirk had used his clout as captain to surreptitiously arrange adjoining quarters for Spock and Uhura aboard the Enterprise.

His smirk didn't last, because he was reminded of his personal, and far from rosy, circumstances. He'd made the most of his time in San Francisco, but five years of celibacy would drive him crazier than McCoy's worst predictions.

The Enterprise was a village. A remarkably _small_ village. Kirk couldn't behave as usual, running through casual lovers with fearless speed. Judging by his past habits, he would exhaust his options aboard ship in a very short time. And he'd already had more than one lecture about hitting on ambassadors.

"May I get you another drink, Captain?" Spock asked.

"Thanks." Kirk held up his glass."It's lemonade."

Spock lifted an eyebrow, which meant, Kirk had determined, extreme surprise. Or humor. Or disgust… Fine, maybe Kirk hadn't figured it out.

"Really great lemonade," Kirk added truthfully. It seemed he was going to stay sober. Damn it.

Spock returned from the nearest bar with two glasses of lemonade, and sat again. Kirk accepted the drink without trying to make conversation. Because of the crowd, they had to bellow to be heard.

"I took the liberty of ordering a shot of vodka for your drink," Spock said eventually.

"Thanks," shouted Kirk. Why not? His all or nothing approach to drinking had been silly; there was nothing wrong with getting a mild buzz on. "What about yours?"

Spock said something unintelligible.

"What? I didn't hear that."

Spock stood up, gesturing to Kirk to follow him. Taking their drinks along, they went outside to stand on the huge lawn.

There were at least a hundred other Starfleet personnel wandering about, talking in groups, even lying on the grass, although the fog was coming in, the temperature dropping fast. Out here, Kirk's heavy dress uniform felt comfortable.

Spock faced him. "To answer your question, ethyl alcohol doesn't affect me."

"Yeah? That must suck."

"Jim, there is something I do not wish to keep from you. I have met myself."

Kirk nearly soaked the lawn with his spiked lemonade. "But how–"

"Spock Prime implied to you there would be a cataclysmic cosmic event if he and I encountered each other. It is not the case."

"Then he could have stepped in!"

"That would not have been optimal. He believed I would benefit from accepting your direction on my own."

Kirk was quickly over the surprise. "Where is he now?"

"On his way to New Vulcan. He intends to remain there, until his death."

Kirk thought of his father. "But everyone important to him must have died in his timeline. He could have… It's courageous of him, to stay away."

"From you, for instance." Spock spoke without inflection.

"I doubt that's a hardship." Kirk grinned.

"It is," Spock said just as flatly.

"And Uhura?" Kirk was taking a risk by bringing her up. His first officer did _not_ discuss his personal life.

"They were comrades only, the greatest of friends. But no more than that. He may have… but it was not returned…" Spock trailed off.

Kirk hesitated; he was unsure how many references to Uhura he could make without getting a Vulcan nerve pinch. "Then I'm sorry for him."

Spock didn't react, leaving Kirk to wonder if that signaled incomprehension or anger. Either way, he had a probably ill-advised impulse to explain.

"I mean I'm sorry for him that Uhura was not his, um, partner."

Spock continued to be expressionless, pushing Kirk into babbling mode.

"Let's face it, you've got it good, with you and Uhura on the Enterprise together." Kirk grinned provokingly. "Or you will, if I don't assign you to opposite shifts."

"I believe you are more concerned for your own situation, Jim," Spock said mildly.

"No shit," Kirk said, wondering how much vodka was in the lemonade. He was feeling unusually mellow; perhaps it was just exhaustion. "Yes, Spock, I am _concerned_ for my situation. Especially now that you've no doubt eliminated everyone attractive, unattached, and Terran-compatible from the crew."

Momentarily, Spock had an expression that was almost a smile. "You find Uhura attractive."

Kirk snorted. It was either that or say _no shit_ again.

"And me, I believe," Spock said.

"You're cute when you're angry, sure."

"I've seen your profile," Spock said.

"I've seen yours. What's your point?"

"My point is that the number and variety of your partners indicates you are highly sexed, and you must therefore be concerned about the length of our mission," Spock said. "As a Starfleet captain, a liaison could lead to unfortunate complications."

"If you are about to warn me off ambassadors–"

"As a solution, Uhura and I are offering you a secondary relationship."

"A what?" Kirk said, indiscreetly loud with surprise. But the foggy wind carried his voice away.

"She wished for our secondary to be female, as did I, but we've concluded it's not a requirement."

Various responses tried to burst out of him, but Kirk suppressed all but one, the most urgent. "I'm not sure what you mean by secondary." Other than _not first_, damn it.

"You have no experience of poly relationships?"

Was Spock's face smug? Kirk wanted to defend himself, but he didn't think his threesome on Alcatraz would meet Spock's criteria of a _relationship_. He didn't think _any_ of his experiences would.

"I know something about them—okay, I know people who are in them," Kirk qualified. "But I don't know how they work. Practically speaking, that is."

_Except it would mean sex with both of them, wouldn't it?_ He was immediately hard, almost uncomfortably so in his uniform, and had to look away from Spock. His gaze unfortunately landed on Alcatraz.

Spock's tone was dryly instructional. "The arrangements vary. In this instance, Uhura and I are primary partners. A secondary partner would not share in all aspects of our relationship."

"Such as?" Kirk asked. They had started walking, strolling over the grass towards the bay.

"Financial responsibilities. Child rearing. Co-habitation."

_I could love this_, Kirk thought. "And sex?" His voice rasped a little.

"With some restrictions. We would share you together, not separately."

Kirk supposed he should feel at least _some_ trepidation, but his first reaction was an urge to throw his arms up and shout _Hooray_! He managed to suppress it, and they walked in silence for a while. When they reached the edge of the lawn, they followed its perimeter.

"When did you discuss it with Uhura?" Kirk asked. It did his ego good to picture her talking about him.

"I cannot recall the exact date," Spock said. "I believe Uhura brought the topic up initially."

There was an evasion in Spock's answer; Kirk could feel it. Had Uhura pushed for it? Well, well, well.

"I'll have to talk to Uhura alone first," Kirk said. He knew _that_ much, at least.

"Certainly."

"Okay. Well, great, then," Kirk said.

Because Spock's composure was annoying, and because he just wanted to, Kirk abruptly hugged Spock. When Spock did not respond, Kirk just as quickly backed off. Spock hadn't tensed; it was like embracing someone asleep.

Kirk raised his eyebrows. "Is a hug okay? When Uhura's not with us, I mean."

"In public, and fully clothed? Yes, it's acceptable."

Kirk tried again. With Spock participating, it went more smoothly, although Kirk had the impression Spock had embraced few males, perhaps even none. That, and the extremely solid feel of Spock under his hands, inspired him to push a bit, so he kissed Spock as well, harder than he intended, leaving momentary marks on Spock's lower lip.

When Kirk stepped back, Spock touched his own mouth, as if curious, then quickly dropped his hand. Kirk grinned; he knew he was fantastic at kissing.

"This stage of the negotiations is concluded," Spock said.

Kirk laughed. "Yeah? Sure you don't want to _conclude_ some more?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "After you meet with Uhura, we'll send you the contract."

_The contract!?_ Kirk nearly bellowed. _But I've never had a contract!_ But Spock had inclined his head and left him, walking back to the celebration.

* * *

Kirk possibly would have freaked out about being secondary at anything, or at least about his first-ever relationship contract, but he simply didn't have time. Following their departure from Earth, seven days passed in a blur of four-hour naps and sixteen-hour shifts.

Even if he had time to worry, it was not his nature to dwell on things, and it was definitely not his nature to question why someone was attracted to him. He was reasonably sure of what Uhura and Spock wanted from him; high up on the list must be sex. When he tried to think of ways for that to go wrong, he immediately thought: _Of course it'll be great; I'm awesome!_

Perhaps his healthy ego was a good fit for a non-primary role; it wasn't as if he felt he had to prove anything. There was the chain of command to worry about, he supposed, and perhaps charges of favoritism. But Starfleet regulations allowed the relationship; he checked. More important, he, Uhura, and Spock had worked collaboratively from the beginning; he couldn't imagine an intimate relationship threatening that.

There _was_ a slight unease he couldn't pin down, but, other than that, he was simply _not worried_.

Which might indicate he needed a second opinion.

When McCoy dropped by his quarters for a quick drink, Kirk went for it. He could trust McCoy to give him an unvarnished—raw and bleeding, in fact—opinion.

"Bones, what do you know about poly relationships?"

"That they don't work."

"Ah."

"Not for me, anyway," McCoy said, curiosity blooming alarmingly on his face. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering. How common they are in Starfleet. Aboard ships, for instance."

"On five year missions?" McCoy asked eagerly.

"Not necessarily."

"I have no clue. The arrangements vary–"

"I _know_ that–"

"But it would be an _incredible_ avenue of research."

Shit. McCoy was his only option for feedback, and it seemed he wouldn't get any help without agreeing to participate in a goddamn study.

It hit him, not for the first time, that _this_ was his life now: he was the captain, the commander. Ahead of him were countless decisions he would have to take sole responsibility for, even if he did not make them alone.

_But this will be the only time Uhura and Spock can't help me._

McCoy hadn't paused even once for breath. "Jim, it was in _Iowa_ of all places that polygamy was first legalized–"

Kirk smiled. "Bones, that is absolutely fascinating. Got time for another drink?"

* * *

They were ten days out before Kirk had an opportunity to speak with Uhura. Since neutral territory was a must, he obtained (through only minor deception) the use of Bone's consulting room for one hour.

Looking completely composed, Uhura sat down opposite him. Thankfully, she was wearing slacks, so he could think.

"Thank you for the improved accommodations, Captain."

Kirk waved a hand. "I arranged that ages ago."

Her eyebrows went up.

"I'm not entirely a self-serving bastard," Kirk said.

Uhura smiled. "Apparently not."

Crap. It was not going well. It was up to him to ask the questions, and he was making nervous small-talk instead. _I am fearless, and I am bigger than her_, Kirk reminded himself.

"I have to ask you about one thing, Uhura. I thought Vulcans mated for life."

"That's a common misconception. Marriages are arranged for Vulcans at an early age, but they do not have to accept the arrangement. They can, and do, switch partners." Uhura fixed him with a serious gaze. "But Spock and I _are_ partners for life, Jim."

Kirk heaved out a bunch of relieved air; she had addressed the concern he hadn't been able to pin down: if Uhura and Spock went on the rocks, he had to be positive he wouldn't be the cause.

"Great," Kirk said. "I just wanted to be sure Spock won't change his mind later and kill me."

"Oh? I can't promise you that." Uhura smiled.

"Then…" Kirk grinned. "I have no more questions."

"Good. I'll send you the contract right away."

"I kissed Spock, by the way." Kirk stood up and tried his damnedest not to leer.

"He told me." Uhura stood up slowly, smoothing her uniform. "You should know he's monitoring our life signs right now."

Kirk's face felt warm and too tight. "It seems I find that, well, hot."

The physical contact with Spock had been more intriguing than exciting; it had promised more than it had delivered. Kissing Uhura, on the other hand, turned out to be the whole deal: the clichés of fireworks going off and instant breathlessness and all the blood rushing out of his head and his knees going weak. When she pulled away, Kirk knew he looked stunned; he could feel it in the slackness of his face.

Uhura smiled hugely, put a hand on his cheek, then walked away, her knees showing no signs of weakness whatsoever.

Bring on the contract!

* * *

Damn the contract!

Kirk found one stipulation completely and totally unacceptable. But it was two more days before they could meet for any length of time. It was difficult to coordinate when all three of them had to be present.

Uhura insisted the meeting take place in her and Spock's rooms. Admiring what they had done with their adjoining quarters—transforming one room into a bedroom, one into an office—Kirk reflected he might be an unexpected beneficiary of his own thoughtfulness. If they could fix the blasted contract.

They sat around a table. Spock provided them with drinks.

"It says I am to have no other partners." Kirk pointed to the contract film, trying not to sound flabbergasted. "And it's designated non-negotiable."

"Yes, it is," Uhura said.

Spock nodded to signal agreement.

"But why?" Kirk couldn't see the… well, the _logic_ of it. What was the point of a poly relationship if you couldn't fool around, for chrissakes?

"How much leisure time do you have, Jim?" Uhura asked.

Any time she called him Jim, it left him hot and light-headed. Which she had to know. She was also wearing a dress this time. He was probably doomed.

"It's taken days to arrange this meeting," Uhura said. "In six hours, you are due back on the bridge."

"Okay," Kirk said. "I get it."

She was right. He didn't have time for other relationships; he barely had time to be a secondary. And he was mature enough—or at least smart enough—to choose actual sex over hypothetical sex.

"Do I confirm the contract now?" Kirk asked.

"Not necessary. It's not the legal form. We can obtain a binding license if you wish." Spock looked as if he didn't care one way or the other.

"No, it's all right. But…" Kirk tensed, struck with emotional stage fright for the first time in his life. "But I reserve the right to a binding license in the future." Had he got the words right?

Spock and Uhura exchanged a glance. "Agreed," Uhura said.

Kirk was too relieved not to babble. "Now what? Are we done? Show's over?"

Spock walked to the bed and sat down on it. Uhura sat beside him, leaving a Kirk-sized space between them.

Kirk must have looked tense, because Uhura smiled, and patted the space.

Sitting between them, Kirk was surprised by his feeling of awkwardness. He was never awkward, because he was never unprepared. But this was a first for him. Sure, he'd had threesomes before, many times in fact, but the encounters had been extremely casual, casual as in he couldn't remember their names…

He realized he was staring at Uhura's legs. It was impossible not to. Her dress was short; her legs were intensely obvious. Nyota's _amazing_ legs. And he could finally, finally touch them.

Kirk's hand was on her thigh in the next instant, and he nearly groaned at the feel of her skin. Then he bent down to put his mouth on her thigh, and the groan couldn't be suppressed any longer.

He didn't remember moving, but his knees were suddenly on the floor, his head was in her lap, his arms around her hips. He heard her laugh, but didn't have time to react, because Spock's hands were on his back, and Spock was using his knowledge of nerve endings to cause paralyzing pleasure instead of paralyzing pain.

It was uncharacteristically passive of him, but Kirk didn't object when they tugged him back up on the bed and stripped his uniform off.

When Uhura was finally naked, he said, feebly, _Wow_, and she laughed again. But Spock said, "Agreed," and he and Spock shared a look he'd never shared with anyone, one of smug possession.

His plan to dazzle them with his sexual athleticism was sidetracked when Spock began a thorough, intense, and imaginative exploration of Uhura, rendering Kirk motionless, a transfixed voyeur. He was dimly aware he was fulfilling some sort of function by watching, and by stroking himself while watching—though not too much because if he came his eyes would close—but mostly he was just very, very happy to be present.

Just when he was starting to think _touching would be good_, Uhura hooked him with a leg around his waist and pulled him in.

Spock was at last fully undressed, his entirely human-looking body hair a surprise, though not as surprising as his occasional growling. Uhura having no body hair at all was also a surprise. Then Uhura grabbed handfuls of him and Kirk was too busy to be surprised.

He briefly attempted a coup, but they ganged up on him, first with general touching, which at last became more specific—although not quite specific enough—until Kirk said, as firmly as he could, "Someone should fuck me now." Uhura did first, with a toy, then Spock without one.

Embarrassingly, Kirk possibly said _Thank you_— sincerely, fervently, and a few more times than once.

He managed only two hours of sleep in his quarters before making it back to the bridge.

When McCoy saw him, his eyebrows shot up with surprise at Kirk's expression, which was probably giddy, if not downright euphoric.

"Jim! What the hell are you so happy about?"

"Space travel does not necessarily cause depression, Bones." Kirk swung himself into his chair with more than usual caution.

"Really." McCoy frowned and looked distracted; his mind had thankfully leapt elsewhere.

* * *

It was four days before their three schedules allowed a rest period together.

This time, Kirk had the satisfaction of being impressive and indefatigable.

He made many useful discoveries. He liked it when Spock growled. Uhura was fixated on his ass almost as much as he was fixated on her legs. Spock liked teeth. And dirty talk completely _destroyed_ Uhura.

He didn't let up until Uhura was breathless and damp with sweat, and Spock fell abruptly asleep, the first time Kirk had seen him in that state. Kirk immediately followed suit.

Smelling coffee, he woke six hours later. Spock was out of bed and studying star charts at his desk, so Kirk got up, tucked the still sleeping Uhura in, and kissed her forehead with an intense emotion he wasn't going to think about yet.

Leaving the bedroom in peaceful darkness, he sat by Spock and poured himself coffee from a press pot on Spock's desk. The coffee was the real stuff, which meant Spock had brewed it specially for him; it was not a beverage the half-Vulcan enjoyed, and Uhura favored an oregano tea which was definitely an acquired taste.

In low voices, they discussed their navigational course for the next five days, the next five weeks, the next five months…_The next five years._ Kirk found himself grinning. While having this convoluted, technical chat with Spock, he felt a subtler version of the intense emotion he had while kissing the sleeping Uhura.

Spock studied his grin. "It was generous of you, but you do not need to feel pity, or regret, for Spock Prime."

Distracted by the subject change as well as the compliment, Kirk took a moment to catch up, then remembered Spock Prime was the future Spock, the first Spock, before Nero altered their reality.

"He loved, and was loved," Spock said, refilling Kirk's coffee cup. "Perhaps not wisely, Jim, but certainly well."

"Well, good for him," Kirk said. "Hey, did I tell you this coffee is great?"


End file.
